


Between the Lines (Safe, Loved drabbles)

by Nutbuttaz



Series: Safe, Loved. [5]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, Domestic Fluff, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Geralt and Ciri are married, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Original Character(s), Pregnancy, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Threesome - F/F/M, non-specific timeline, you should read the other ones first
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 09:14:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23848786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nutbuttaz/pseuds/Nutbuttaz
Summary: This will be a random collection of drabbles and oneshots set before, during, and after the events of the Safe, Loved series. They will not necessarily be in chronological order and ratings will vary by chapter.Ch. 1: Hungry (Geralt/Ciri, Yen) - DrabbleCh. 2: Life (Geralt/Ciri/Yen, Jaskier, Triss) - 5+1 (long chapter)Ch. 3: Papa (G-rated fluff) - DrabbleCh. 4: Unaware V.2 (Geralt/Ciri) - long chapterCh. 5: Fantasy (Ciri solo play) - Drabble
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Safe, Loved. [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1703581
Comments: 9
Kudos: 80





	1. Hungry

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter rating: M
> 
> Set during “The Gift” towards the end of Ciri’s pregnancy

“‘M hungry,” Ciri mumbled. A pair of strong, warm arms wrapped around her swollen belly and she leaned back against Geralt’s chest with a sigh. Yen snorted in annoyance, holding up a stack of dirty dishes she was collecting from the kitchen table.

“Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon!” Yennefer snapped at her. “We _just_ finished eating breakfast. Moments ago. You’re still hungry?”

“Someone else is hungry!” Ciri whined, rubbing a hand over her belly. “I’m tired, my feet and back hurt, I have to relieve myself _all the time,_ and all I want is more food!” There were actual tears gathering in the corners of her eyes and Yen rubbed her own eyes tiredly. 

_I love my daughter I love my daughter I love my daughter._

“What would you like, Ciri love? Something sweet?” Yen asked, forcing herself to be gentle despite her patience wearing thin. She conjured up a cinnamon sweet roll and offered it to her pregnant daughter, who sniffed at it first then accepted it.

“Mmm,” Ciri moaned as she chewed her first bite. “Oh my gods… fuck…”

“Haven’t heard her moan like that since she was getting pregnant,” Geralt joked. Ciri growled through a mouthful of sweet roll, unwilling (unable?) to turn around and actually slap him. “Sorry. I love you,” Geralt murmured soothingly, stroking her ash blond hair. He cradled her belly in his hands, rubbing gently when he felt movement there. He sighed and nuzzled into Ciri’s neck. “Soon, Ciri, not long now…”

“Hmm,” Ciri licked the frosting off her fingers. “Thank gods, I can’t do this much longer.”

Yen choked with laughter. “YOU can’t?! Ha! Try living with you!”

“Fuck off!” There were those goddam tears in Ciri’s eyes again. Yen conjured a fruit tart for her and Ciri accepted it begrudgingly, sniffling as she stuffed her face. Geralt growled in Yen’s direction, “Quit antagonizing her. She’s growing our baby. Have pity.” 

“Yeah!” Ciri pouted. “Pity me, you bitch.” Geralt winced. Oh, this was not good. 

Yen crossed the room in three wide steps and leaned over Ciri, slapping the tart out of her hand. The girl gasped in shock. Yen snarled at her. “ _What_ did you call me, you little slut?” 

Ciri glared back at her, sitting upright with difficulty. Geralt pressed a hand between her shoulder blades to support her. “I called you a _bitch_. A common, bump envious, nasty, _bitch_.”

“Ohhhh, no. You little cunt. Stand up, Geralt,” Yen growled, brandishing her fists. Geralt groaned. Yen stood up tall and shook a finger at him. “You agreed to this! Or shall I put my hands right on your wife’s neck and strangle her?”

“ _No_ ,” Geralt growled possessively, standing up carefully and making sure Ciri was steady sitting on her own. He walked over in front of Yen and sighed. “Fine, do it.”

Yen smirked and raised her arm, hand opened wide. She looked behind Geralt at Ciri. “This is for your dirty, ungrateful mouth.” Yen smacked Geralt across his face with all her strength. Geralt grumbled and rubbed at the red mark. Ciri crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow. 

“Yeah? He can take it. What else do you want to do to me?” Ciri asked like a brat. She winced and pushed suddenly below her ribcage, where the baby was digging a heel into her muscles. Yen softened for a moment seeing her in discomfort, and then caught Ciri’s gaze as she looked up again. There was a plea in Ciri’s eyes, and Yen knew that she was being mouthy because she simply had no other outlet. Her fiery little daughter, restricted by her pregnancy. 

_I love my daughter I love my daughter._

“Hm, little slut. What else? Maybe I would do this - come, Geralt. Kneel. Good boy,” Yen purred as she sat on the edge of the table beside Ciri. She spread her legs and lifted her skirt, grabbing the back of Geralt’s neck and shoving his mouth against her pussy. She ground her hips against his face as she looked over to Ciri, who was watching them in delight. “I would shut you up just like this, Ciri.”

“Mm,” Ciri sighed. She reached out with limited range and stroked Geralt’s silver-white hair. The Witcher hummed against Yen’s clit, eating her out enthusiastically. After all, this was not such a punishment compared to being his wife’s stand-in punching bag. Yen moaned, sliding her fingers over Ciri’s hand and squeezing her. 

“Soon, Ciri, soon,” Yen breathed. She stifled a cry as Geralt sank two fingers inside her and began rocking against her sweet spot. Ciri rose to her feet slowly, holding on to the edge of the table and Geralt’s head to support herself. She leaned in and pulled Yen forward, a silent supplication for a kiss. Yen obliged her, the kiss sweet and unhurried. The sorceress smoothed a hand over Ciri’s heavy belly, pausing when she felt the baby press back against her. 

“Sorry for being a brat,” Ciri mumbled, tangling her fingers in Yen’s black curls. Yen inhaled sharply, squeezing her thighs against Geralt’s head and whimpering as his big hands grabbed her knees and forced her open. He sucked on her clit vigorously, unrelenting, until she shook against him and started to come. Ciri pressed kisses against Yen’s lips and chin, grinning as she watched the sorceress lose control.

“Mmm… little slut… you’ll make it up to me, I know you will,” Yen gasped. Ciri giggled and snuggled against her as she went limp, breathing deeply through the aftershocks of her orgasm. Geralt wiped his mouth on his sleeve and stood up, placing his arms supportively around Ciri’s shoulders and waist. He pressed a kiss to Ciri’s forehead and then to Yen’s. The red sting of the slap had already faded away to nothingness, like they all knew it would. It was a tiny, truly insignificant price he paid for keeping the peace between his pregnant wife and his girlfriend.

“Soon,” Ciri sighed. She leaned back into Geralt’s embrace and studied Yen’s face, looking at her apologetically and then to the fruit tart splattered uneaten on the ground. 

“For fuck’s sake,” Yen snapped, throwing her skirts back down and moving her fingers gracefully through the air. A fresh fruit tart appeared in her hand, but she took a bite of it before passing it over to Ciri. “Here. Eat, by the gods, eat up so I don’t have to listen to you complain.” 

“Thank you,” Ciri mumbled politely as she chomped on the tart. She hummed in thought, plucking off a strawberry slice and passing it back to Geralt to eat. “Mmm… Yen? What are we having for lunch?”

“I can’t.” The sorceress was stomping out of the room, throwing up her arms in defeat. “I can’t! Geralt, _you_ feed her.”

  
  


“.... Fuck.”

  
  
  
  



	2. Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: E
> 
> 5 + 1 times pregnancy was not what Ciri signed up for, and the one time it was all worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the one with all the pregnancy things.  
> Including: morning sickness, body image woes, pregnant sex, jealousy, hurt/comfort, labor and delivery, brief birth trauma, and Yen’s fascination with titties. 
> 
> Also there is brief mention of Jaskier/Yennefer. You can read it as friendship or a romantic pairing. Choose your own adventure!

A normal woman would know she was pregnant by the nausea, the body aches, the exhaustion, the lack of blood at her time of the month. Ciri was not a normal woman, and the people she lived with and loved were far beyond normal as well. So of course, of _course_ the first symptoms were not hers at all, but the wolf’s.

It was a week after their trip to Oxenfurt. Ciri was folding clean laundry on the back porch while Geralt fed and watered their livestock in the pasture behind their house. Yen was inside ‘making dinner’, which was sorceress code for conjuring a meal and sitting by the fire with her feet up and wine glass in hand. In the distance Ciri saw rain clouds and wind picking up speed towards her, rustling the tree tops and tall grass, and she hurried to finish her task before the storm blew over them. As she predicted she felt a few rain drops on her head as she tucked the last of the clean clothes into her basket, and looked up to see if Geralt needed help with the animals.

She almost jumped out of her skin to see Geralt standing just a few feet from her, staring at her with an odd expression on his face. “What?” she asked. He didn’t blink or move but his nostrils flared as he scented something. Ciri stood up and waved her arm to break his trance. “Hello? What?!”

Geralt snapped out of it, clearing his throat and stepping onto the porch as the raindrops started pelting him. He took the basket out of Ciri’s hands without asking if she needed help. Confused and still without an answer, Ciri followed him into the house. Geralt walked straight to the kitchen and dropped the basket at Yen’s feet. She was sitting in her favorite armchair by the hearth, sipping wine and flipping through a newspaper. Geralt turned and grabbed Ciri by the shoulders, maneuvering her in front of Yen. He pressed his wife close to Yen, ignoring the girl’s protests at being handled like a puppet. 

“Smell her,” Geralt grunted. He shook Ciri gently at Yen’s face. “Smell her!”

“Excuse me, what — do I stink? I bathed this morning! This is ridiculous!” Ciri huffed, squirming in Geralt’s grip. Yennefer breathed in, smiling faintly at Geralt.

“Darling, I’ve known all day. You should check your sense of smell,” Yen teased, taking a long sip of wine. Geralt narrowed his eyes and growled.

“ _No_ , not all day - not this morning. I would’ve noticed. It must have started later. After lunch? I went outside after lunch. Then, was it then? Why didn’t you tell me?!” Geralt’s voice had risen to a yell and his teeth were bared in a snarl. Yennefer rolled her eyes. 

“Fine. Fine, it was after lunch. We were tending the seedlings in the garden and working up a sweat, and that was when I knew.”

“Knew what, you freaks? Stop smelling me!” Ciri whined, tossing an elbow into Geralt’s diaphragm and finally slipping away from him when he gasped in surprise. Yennefer stood up gracefully, smoothing her hands over Geralt’s broad chest and rubbing his shoulders.

“There, there, my wolf. I wasn’t going to say anything until you found out on your own. I didn’t want to spoil your surprise,” Yennefer purred. Geralt grunted and leaned down to kiss Yennefer’s lips, lingering there for a sweet moment while Ciri stood with her hands on her hips glaring at them. 

The two of them turned to her and Ciri’s heart skipped a beat at the looks on their faces. Yennefer’s, gentle and knowing. Geralt’s, stern and protective. They reached out for her, almost in tandem, pulling her into their arms.

“What?” Ciri whispered, starting to tremble. She hoped, but she didn’t dare say it. They pulled back from her, and Geralt’s hand rose and pressed against her lower belly. 

“Ciri, we’re having a baby,” Geralt murmured. “It’s early - very early. You may not show symptoms for a few weeks. But we know.”

Ciri listened in disbelief and shock, sliding her hand over Geralt’s and looking down at herself. She didn’t feel different in the slightest. “... H-how… do you know?”

“Your hormones… your scent changed,” Yennefer explained. “Your scent never changes except when you’re bleeding. It’s quite obvious, love. At least to us.”

“And you’re _sure_?” Ciri’s heart was racing. Geralt stepped closer to her and held her against his chest, squeezing her in his arms protectively. Yennefer nodded firmly, stroking her fingers through Ciri’s soft blonde hair.

“Quite sure, my love. Be careful this month. No horseback riding, no strenuous activity, no heavy lifting, no _fucking_ ,” Yennefer added the last instruction pointedly at Geralt. Geralt growled and held Ciri impossibly closer, breathing in her new scent. Her and the baby. _His_ baby. He moaned softly, nuzzling into her neck where the scent was the strongest. He thought about restraining his animal urges and failed hopelessly, giving in to the desire to lick her neck and suck on her pulse point. 

“He’s going to be positively _useless_ for the next nine months. I hope you’re happy with yourself, Cirilla,” Yennefer said with an eye roll. Ciri hummed, melting into Geralt’s touch. His hands were gripping her hips almost too tightly, his arms strong and protective, his warm breath huffing on her neck as he scented her again and again. Ciri let the moment sink in, though it was hard to feel changed with no indication within her body that she was with child. But Geralt, his reaction… there was no doubt. 

“Daddy…” she whispered, feeling a bit dizzy between the news and his arms squeezing her too tight. Geralt hummed and swept her into his arms, carrying her over to the kitchen table and sitting down with her in his lap. Yennefer buzzed around them, dishing up dinner and setting plates before them and a glass of wine for Geralt. Ciri turned in Geralt’s lap, encouraged by the enticing scent of roasted chicken and vegetables, and dug into her dinner. Geralt sat and drank his wine, not yet interested in food. Only interested in Ciri, her health and her scent, waiting with baited breath for the first sound of a fluttering heartbeat in her belly. Weeks away, still, and yet all he could think about. 

“I’ll believe it when I can feel it,” Ciri muttered between ravenous bites. 

—-

A month later she regretted saying that, as she retched over the railing of their bedroom window. Geralt stood behind her with a glass of water, rubbing her back to comfort her. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” she gasped and wiped at the tears beading in her eyes. She coughed and spat, wincing at the taste and the knowledge that her lover was right behind her. She accepted the glass of water gratefully and swished the liquid in her mouth to cleanse herself before spitting it out of the window as well. 

“I believe it now,” she laughed weakly, brushing the back of her hand across her damp forehead. She felt like shit. Pure, unadulterated shit. Like she had the worst flu of her life. And no promise of a baby _right now_ made her feel any better. 

“Come back to bed,” Geralt murmured gently, pulling her away from the window. She sipped on the water as they walked back to their bed. Yen stretched lazily and held open her arms to Ciri, who set down her glass and slipped into the bed. Yen’s arms were soft and cool and safe. “It’ll pass, little love. I’ll brew potions today for your nausea,” the sorceress purred, snuggling against her. Geralt wrapped one arm around Ciri’s waist, careful not to overheat her as they all tried to fall back asleep. He nosed against her neck, scenting her. Ciri was used to it by now, barely noticing as she relaxed into Yen’s arms and dozed off. 

Ciri woke again to an empty bed and a plate of toast with butter and fruit next to her. She nibbled at it cautiously, waiting to see if her stomach would turn again and dreading if it did. But she held firm, and she was relieved to eat an entire slice of bread and a handful of berries without feeling sick. She got out of bed and threw on her robe, tying the strings as she left the room. The strange, acrid smell of brewing potions filled the air of their cottage and Ciri wandered towards the alchemy lab curiously. Yen was bottling potions, letting them cool on a rack before placing stoppers in them. 

“Ah, darling,” the sorceress clucked as Ciri approached. She picked up one of the potions, swirled it, and then held it out to Ciri. “Try this, it should help. Don’t worry - tried and true recipe. Used to make a fortune brewing these for courtly ladies.”

Ciri sniffed the potion. It had a bitter herbal base with a finish of mint, mostly likely to mask the taste. She sipped it once, just to see how her stomach would take it. When she didn’t heave, she tossed down the rest without hesitation. The mint cooled her throat and stomach pleasantly, and the rest filled her with warmth and comfort - almost like Yennefer was holding her. “That’s nice,” Ciri admitted with a blush on her cheeks. She smiled gratefully. “Thank you Yen.”

“Mm,” Yennefer acknowledged her with a nod. “Take half if you’re feeling sick, then the rest when you’re feeling steady. It should carry you through the morning without much nausea, if any.”

Ciri smiled. Her stomach felt strong, the food she’d eaten settling easily with the addition of the potion. She placed her hands over her belly reflexively. It was real now…. a baby. Geralt’s baby. She sighed wistfully. Yennefer laughed softly at Ciri’s dreamy expression.

“Oh gods help me, the two of you…” Yennefer shook her head. “It’s been bad enough with just Geralt, now you too.”

Ciri blushed and ducked her head. “Sorry, Yen.” The sorceress waved her off. 

“Stop, I’ll have no apologies for being happy. Go on. Find your husband, share your bliss,” Yen dismissed her with an encouraging smile. When Ciri departed her smile dropped, and she focused on the task at hand. A dozen more potions and she would be free to leave for a few days. Visit Jaskier. Have a reprieve from all this baby fever. Have time… time to grieve her empty womb with someone who wasn’t wrapped up in the intimate details. Yen sighed heavily and turned off the burner that was bubbling up the last dose of her potions. She added the essence of mint and let the flask cool on the stand. Just a little time to herself…. that’s all she needed.

  
  


—-

Ciri did not take Yen’s disappearance well. Geralt assured her over and over that she was simply visiting Jaskier on a whim and it had nothing to do with them. Ciri looked at the stock pile of anti-nausea potions and didn’t believe it for a second. This ‘whim’ was a planned vacation. Planned to avoid her pregnancy. 

“But it’s Beltane - her favorite,” Ciri whined unhappily a week later. The holiday just wouldn’t be the same without Yennefer casting fireworks over their house at dusk. Not that they could really enjoy the _other_ aspects of Beltane… well, Yennefer and Geralt could, but Ciri was on a strict no-sex order that left her feeling irritable and lonely. She couldn’t avoid Geralt’s gorgeous body next to her at night, nor his frequent scenting of her that bordered on indecency at times. And yet she could have none of him for the baby’s safety. It was a cruel fate. Geralt reminded her daily that in another month or so it would be safe to make love, but that seemed too far away.

Geralt was dozing on the front porch watching the sunset through heavy-lidded eyes. He didn’t sleep well at night when Yennefer wasn’t home - he couldn’t afford to let his guard down when he was the only one protecting his wife and baby. He had taken to napping in the afternoons before darkness fell and then would spend the night in meditation next to Ciri. It was not ideal, but he would have it no other way. Such a small sacrifice for his family’s safety.

Ciri paused in the open doorway, watching him curiously. The summer sun was warm and inviting and cast a beautiful glow around her handsome husband. She sighed, wanting him… missing him. She touched her belly, just barely swollen like she’d eaten too large a meal. The baby inside her so tiny and fragile… she couldn’t give in to her desires. She had to be safe. Not that Geralt would let her endanger the baby anyway. 

But what if…

She walked slowly towards him, not trying to creep up on him - what a pointless thing to do to a witcher. Just quietly enough not to shock him from his peaceful slumber. Her tight trousers had stopped fitting, so she was dressed in a soft, sheer blue night dress with the upper laces left open over her cleavage. Her breasts were too sore to wear a tight top even if she had trousers that fit. She had resigned herself to simply being comfortable… not like she was allowed to do anything that would require sensible clothes. 

She grazed her fingers over Geralt’s shoulder, down his chest, over his belly, settling on his trouser laces and pulling them loose slowly. He drew in a sharp breath and opened his eyes to look at her. The sun illuminated her profile like an angel with a halo glowing about her. He smiled sleepily and reached out to caress her face, as if checking that she was real and not just a very pleasant dream. Ciri grinned back and reached inside his trousers to pull out his cock, still soft. 

“Hmm,” Geralt mumbled curiously as she grasped him, rubbing gently as he started to fill out in her hand. “Ciri, we can’t-“ Ciri had cut him off with a finger against his lips. She sunk down to her knees in front of him, edging closer between his spread legs. 

“We can do this,” Ciri whispered, and took his cock in her mouth to suck. He was half-hard, and she moaned against him as his cock swelled on her tongue. Maybe it had been too long and she missed him, but he tasted positively divine and he felt… _oh, gods_ , she moaned again thinking of having him inside of her. Geralt must have been thinking the same thought because he groaned filthily and canted his hips just the tiniest amount against her eager mouth. His hands found her hair, holding on as she bobbed up and down on his length, drooling and working her skilled fingers on his shaft and balls and-

“ _Fuck,_ ” Geralt gritted as he clenched up and came, Ciri popping off and stroking him as he pulsed through his orgasm. It had been a while, and there was a _lot_ of spend. Ciri was happy she hadn’t stayed on because the thought of swallowing turned her sensitive stomach just a tiny bit queasy. Still, she pushed that thought aside and looked up at Geralt gasping in relief and bliss, a smile on his face. Somewhere in the distance was the pop and sizzle of a fireworks display, and a splash of red and orange flashed across the horizon. Ciri raised her cum-covered hands to the sky and shouted “BELTANE!” and they both laughed, leaning together and meeting in the middle for a kiss. As she pulled away Ciri wiped her dirty hands on Geralt’s shirt and he growled and nipped at her neck playfully in retribution. 

“Your turn?” Geralt asked, running his hands along her sides and helping her up to her feet. Ciri hummed, considering her options for the briefest of moments and then nodding. Geralt stood, tucking himself back into his trousers and then sweeping Ciri into his arms. He carried her inside, kicking the front door shut with his heel, and brought her to bed. He laid her down gently, sinking onto his knees as he pushed up her skirt over her hips. Ciri whimpered, wanting him for so much more than this but willing to take anything he could give her. He pressed kisses up her thighs, on her hips, over her belly. His baby. He paused there, nuzzling against that tiniest little bump, kissing it, sliding his hands under her lower back and hugging her against him. He felt her hands in his hair, petting him lovingly. He could stay like that all night but the smell of her arousal brought him back to his task. It would not be Beltane without giving pleasure to his loves. He thought just for a moment of Yennefer, knowing she was in Jaskier’s arms shouting to the summer night sky far away. Not how he would prefer it, but he could not fault them for seeking each other. 

He dipped his head down and gave Ciri his all, though she deserved even more than that. She deserved Yennefer’s love and attention too. She deserved the next Beltane to be spent sandwiched between them, fucked into oblivion, with their baby sleeping soundly in the nursery. Geralt growled against her pussy, listening to her pleasured cries as she found her release, her whimpers as she came down. He laid down beside her, holding her close, kissing her, rubbing her belly. Ciri sighed and melted against him. Passion sated, loneliness gone. For now.

  
  


——

  
  


Yennefer returned three weeks later with an entire suitcase of gifts for Ciri. She assured Geralt they weren’t ‘guilt gifts’ … but they were. Yen had spent the first week in Oxenfurt moping and crying over many bottles of wine with Jaskier. The second week, starting with Beltane, she decided she was done being sad and had fun instead. The third week, she started missing her family. The city of Oxenfurt had no shortage of markets and stalls in which to shop and buy them gifts. The last night she laid in Jaskier’s arms. They talked about the old days and the future, laughed at the thought of Geralt being a father, cried one more time for the baby she’d never carry, and sang to the stars. The next morning, with a long hug and a longer kiss, she leapt through her portal back to her home. 

Whenever her heart was too heavy, Jaskier’s mirth wiped away her pain and made her feel whole. She couldn’t explain it, and she didn’t want to _share it_ with anyone, not even with Geralt and Ciri. Jaskier was the only person in the whole world who didn’t accept her tough exterior… not anymore, at least. He used to be terrified of her. But over the years their friendship and love grew, and though they never lived together as a couple the invitation was always there if they needed each other. He healed her and soothed her. He let her be weak for him so she could be strong for others. 

And now here she was, strong and ready and full of gifts. Ciri eyed her up suspiciously, hand on her belly, still not sure of how Yen felt towards her. “You missed Beltane,” Ciri said bluntly, unhappily. “Geralt and I had to make do without fireworks… well, mostly…” She smiled fondly at the memory before her expression turned sour again.

Yen smiled sympathetically. “Ciri… I had some things to take care of.” The girl shook her head in disbelief, and Yen sighed. “I had _myself_ to take care of. Cirilla, I’ll never have what you have. I’ll never know what this is like…” She reached out a hand hesitantly, brushing her fingertips lightly across Ciri’s belly. “I needed time to pity myself. And it’s over now. I’m here, I’m happy for you. Let me give you gifts, my love.”

Ciri’s face softened and she held out her arms to Yen. The sorceress closed the gap between them and held her, careful not to squeeze her too tightly. Ciri laid her head on her shoulder and huffed in laughter. “What kind of daughter would I be to begrudge you when you bring me presents?”

Yen smiled broadly. “That’s the spirit. Come now, please, I can’t wait. Sit by the fire. Geralt! Presents!” Yen carried the suitcase over to Ciri and set it on a stool, popping the lid open. Geralt joined them and settled on the fur next to Yen, watching Ciri in her armchair unpacking the gifts.

So many things, sweet and thoughtful. Lots of new clothes for Ciri including roomier blouses and trousers with an expanding waistband which Ciri couldn’t wait to try on later. Sweets, chocolates, and candied nuts that Ciri had to try right away before offering some to Geralt and Yen. A couple of salves and expensive lotions for Ciri’s breasts and belly, which Yen said she’d appreciate later in her pregnancy. And finally at the bottom of the suitcase, something that took Ciri’s breath away. A knitted, cotton-stuffed wolf toy, just the right size for a baby to cuddle. Underneath it a fine pair of muslin swaddling cloths in a blue and silver pattern, and an infant sized jumper of the same pattern. Ciri wiped at the tears falling from her eyes, cradling the little wolf against her chest. “Yen…”

Yen cleared her throat, affected by Ciri’s touched reaction. “The first of many gifts for the baby. I had to stop myself. I wanted to get so many things. I saw the wolf and I had to-“ She was cut off as Ciri dove into her arms and pinned her on the fur rug.

Geralt protested, “No wrestling!”. But Ciri settled on Yen’s chest, laying down on her and cuddling against her with the wolf still in her arms. 

“I love you, Yen,” Ciri murmured sweetly, closing her eyes and letting the scent and touch of the sorceress wash over her. Ciri had missed her more than she’d liked to admit. Yen wrapped her arms around her, turning them onto their sides so that Ciri wasn’t smooshed against her as much. She wrapped an arm around Ciri’s thigh and lifted it over her own hip, capturing a squeeze of the girl’s ass once she did. 

“I love you too, little one. May I make up Beltane to you? I missed you that night,” Yen purred to her. Ciri blushed and giggled, tossing the wolf toy at Geralt.

“Daddy, can Yen borrow me?” Ciri asked, though she and the sorceress were already undressing each other. Geralt chuckled, happy to see them happy together. He gave each of them a blessing in the form of a pat on the ass, and settled back against the couch to watch.

And by watch them... he fell asleep. Because Yen was finally home and he hadn’t slept a full night in three long weeks. The girls giggled at him snoring as they made love on the soft furs, gentle and patient with each other and happy, _so happy_ , to be together again.

  
  


——

  
  


There was no exact date when they decided Ciri was ready for physical activity again. About four months in she was sporting a cute, small baby bump and her morning nausea had left her. She had energy again and picked up more chores around the house and outside, insisting that she was well enough to tend the vegetable and flower gardens. She proudly wore the pregnancy trousers and blouses that Yen had bought her, and she felt more like herself in them than she had in the first couple months of wearing whatever loose dress fit. Hair up in her usual bun and sword in her hands just to maintain muscle tone and practice her forms in the yard, she looked like her usual badass self… but with a baby bump.

And that _did something_ to Geralt.

Ciri didn’t notice the look in his eyes as she came inside to cool off with a glass of water. The summer heat was oppressive, even hotter for a pregnant woman already running warmer than she was accustomed to. She loosened the buttons on her blouse, letting her cleavage air out. She sighed happily after she drowned the glass of water, wiping the condensation off her lips with the back of her hand. As she set down the cup she looked over and saw Geralt watching her like a predator, licking his bottom lip hungrily. The sight startled her and she took a step back, her foot catching on the foot of a chair and tripping her. She winced, expecting to hit the floor, and opened her eyes in surprise to feel… nothing. She was floating. She looked around and saw Geralt’s chest, his arms wrapped around her, the room spinning as he lifted her and turned around. 

The bed was too far away. Geralt laid her down on the kitchen table and unbuttoned her blouse in record time, his mouth devouring her with kisses and love bites as he worked to get her trousers off as well. She was gasping in surprise, not ready but willing. _Definitely_ willing. 

“Geralt!” She yelped, giggling as he tugged her trousers and boots off and left her completely naked on the table while he stripped himself. He was rock hard and dripping with precum, and Ciri moaned at the sight of him so worked up. He grabbed her thighs and tugged her towards him so that he could stand with his hips flush against her pussy as she laid back on the table. Her jaw dropped open as he wasted no time at all pressing the head of his cock against her tight entrance. Three months of no penetration… Geralt practically sobbed at the sensation of finally being inside her again, tight and wet and his and _pregnant._

Ciri was panting for breath. “Geralt… it’s safe? G-gentle now… oh fuck, you feel so good, _fuck.”_

“Yen said-“ Geralt stopped and steadied himself as black dots danced across his vision. He forced himself to take deep breaths and oxygenate his lungs. _Wolves_ _do not faint during sex._ “-she said safe. Just no, _fuck,_ nothing rough.”

“Daddy!” Ciri cried out as he sunk into her, deep and perfect. Geralt’s hands rested on her belly, rubbing and squeezing her sides where her hips had filled out since she started eating for two… which for Ciri, forever hungry, was more like eating for four. Ciri was shy about her body changing, used to her lean boyish figure and not these curves she was developing for her baby. But Geralt… he worshipped them. He was practically drooling just looking at her spread out beneath him as he gently worked in and out of her pussy. 

“So beautiful,” Geralt moaned. His hands wrapped around her thighs again, pulling her close, squeezing at the new softness there. “Ciri, you’re so beautiful with my baby in you… _fuck_ , so perfect.”

Ciri whimpered, cradling her belly in her hands. She could tell Geralt was holding back, not fucking her the way he wanted to, but it felt incredible just the same. Just to have him inside her, loving her… She gasped and squirmed as he licked his fingers and played with her clit. “Feel good, Ciri?” he growled as she nodded, closing her eyes in bliss. He placed his hand over her belly, lacing their fingers together.

“I love you, daddy,” Ciri breathed, rocking her hips up against his, reaching out for him to kiss her. He leaned over her carefully, bracing himself on the table to prevent squishing her belly. Geralt chuckled. “Soon we won’t be able to kiss in this position, you’ll be too big.” She pouted at him and he kissed those soft lips hungrily. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ve got other ways to fuck you.”

“Oh?” Ciri giggled as he scented her neck and kissed her there. He growled and snapped his hips carefully, aiming up against her sweet spot. She cried out with each thrust, face flushing as she grew close to release. 

“Mmm,” Geralt moaned, feeling close as well. He gasped between thrusts, chest heaving with exertion. “We’ll have to… try and see… lots of practice, hm?” 

“Practice,” Ciri repeated, gripping Geralt’s hips between trembling thighs. Geralt stuttered to a halt, growling as he came inside her and she followed his lead, letting herself fall off that precipice into ecstasy. She screamed, and Yennefer burst into the room at a run.

“Ciri! Are you okay- _Oh_ ,” Yennefer stopped and laughed at the sight of them spent and sweating on the kitchen table. Geralt was propping himself up with his hands splayed on the table, still inside of Ciri who was shaking on his cock and holding onto Geralt’s forearm with one hand and her baby bump with her other. They both looked over at Yen with dazed expressions. Yen backed away, smirking, “Okay, you two are washing that table and not me. Carry on.”

  
  


—-

  
  


Ciri paced at the window, staring up at the full moon and scowling. A week late… she was overdue to give birth. The baby didn’t want to come. The terrifying and irrational thought that it would never arrive crossed her mind several times. She had been close to going crazy a couple times in her life, and this was going to be the third. _Please hurry, little one, you can’t stay forever_.

“Ciri, conserve your energy,” a gentle voice chided her from beside the kitchen hearth. Triss had come to stay with them to help with the birth and recovery. An extra set of skilled sorceress hands was never unwanted, and Triss’s calm presence almost ( _almost_ ) took the anxious edge off of Geralt. The Witcher was sitting next to Triss, watching Ciri. He refused to be separated from his wife and hovered around her all day and night. Ciri loved him for his protectiveness, but even he was starting to wear on her nerves and drive her mad. She needed this baby to come before she strangled him… or herself… or everyone.

Ciri sighed in exhaustion and crossed the room slowly to sink into the armchair, propped up by extra cushions. She couldn’t get comfortable anywhere, in any position. She was too big, too sore, too irritable. She was close to tears more often than she’d like to admit, and now she was too tired to prevent them from falling. She sobbed brokenly, hugging her belly and that stubborn baby inside of it. 

“It wouldn’t be yours if it wasn’t stubborn,” Triss soothed her, smiling apologetically for her intrusion and touching the crystal humming at her throat. “Sorry, you’re projecting quite loudly.”

“Oh,” Ciri sniffled and wiped her face. “Triss, is there anything else we can do? Can you… start labor, with magic?”

Triss shook her head emphatically. “There’s no need to interfere in such a way. It could cause more trouble than it helps. I’m sorry, dear. I’m only here to help and heal, I can’t make it happen against nature’s will.” She looked between Ciri and Geralt, raising an eyebrow. “The best trick to start labor is intercourse or vigorous exercise. Considering how tired you are, you might prefer the first option.”

Ciri groaned. She felt… well, _not sexy_ was the easiest way to describe it. She was not in the mood. No matter how gorgeous and caring her husband was, nothing could stir her to action at the moment. But Triss was right… if it was the best way to stimulate labor, she could at least try. Ciri looked over at Geralt, defeat on her face. Geralt hmm’d and reached out for her, squeezing her hand reassuringly. 

“If you do all the work,” Ciri finally conceded with a sigh. Geralt chuckled and nodded.

“Never in my life have I had a woman so excited to sleep with me,” the Witcher teased as he got up and slid his arms under Ciri’s to help her stand. She wobbled on her feet a little, then took his hand and nodded. He escorted her slowly towards their bedroom. “Good luck!” Triss called after them, smiling in encouragement. 

Yen was dozing in their bed, a candle lit beside her and a book open on her chest. She had been trying to stay up in case anything happened, and clearly failed. She stirred as she felt movement on the bed and smiled sleepily when she saw Geralt arranging a wall of pillows for Ciri to lay against. This is how they’d been making love for the past month since every other position had become too tiresome for Ciri to enjoy. The girl grumbled as she stripped and climbed naked onto the bed, laying on her side against her pillows so that Geralt could curl up against her back. Geralt brought a vial of almond oil with him, slicking himself up with it since Ciri had made it clear she was not in the mood, therefore not wet. He hesitated as he spooned up behind her, giving her hip a gentle squeeze. “Alright?” he asked softly. Ciri nodded and sighed, patting his hand. “Go on, love,” she whispered back. 

Yen set aside her book and scooted forward in the bed. She pressed her forehead against Ciri’s, letting the girl lean on her. When Ciri didn’t tense up under her touch, she slipped an arm around her shoulders and trailed her nails over the girl’s back. Ciri sighed and Geralt moaned as he entered her slowly, making sure he wasn’t causing her any discomfort. He reached out an arm and draped it over Ciri and Yen, holding them close as he made love to Ciri.

Yen hummed in approval as something eased in Ciri’s expression, irritation replaced by the faintest look of pleasure. Ciri nuzzled against her chin and Yen kissed her tenderly. Yen caressed her hand along Ciri’s shoulders, her arm, her breasts. She stopped there, teasing Ciri’s nipples very gently. She had found out by trial and error how much sensation Ciri could handle. Ciri had confided in her a couple weeks ago that her breasts and nipples had been aching and that massage and stimulation now felt very, _very_ good. After barely touching the girl’s perfect breasts almost her whole pregnancy, Yen didn’t need another word of encouragement to play with them. She thought it was quite erotic, actually, lavishing attention on Ciri’s breasts when she was so far along and aching for her baby. Yen never expected to be into such a kink, but here she was, wiggling downwards in the bed and taking Ciri’s nipple in her mouth to suckle on it. Ciri’s gasps of pleasured relief was her reassurance as she leisurely sucked and licked on her, taking turns on each breast all the while Geralt worked Ciri from behind. Geralt was moaning, fingers tangled in Yen’s black curls as she play-fed at Ciri’s breast. Yen and Ciri weren’t the only ones who enjoyed this. His cock jerked thinking of when the baby was born and Ciri was producing milk...oh, the fun they would have with that. 

_Pervert_. Yen’s voice rang clear in his head and he growled, pushing harder into Ciri. 

_You’re the one suckling like a baby_ , he snapped back, which earned him a middle finger from Yen. He could smell Yen’s arousal and made a mental note to bring her kink up again later, on a less tense day. Ciri was moaning softly, hugging Yen against her chest and pushing back against Geralt’s thrusts. 

“Geralt,” Ciri whimpered. “Geralt, give me everything. Please, I want this baby-ah!” Her words were cut off as Geralt needed no encouragement to fuck her hard. He let loose, months of pent up frustration from holding back when he was inside her. He wanted the baby too, wanted Ciri to feel better, wanted their family to be whole. He felt Ciri clenching around him, grinning breathlessly to himself for making her cum even when she wasn’t in the mood. He pounded her through it, growling as he came, thrusting deep and hard and-

Ciri cried out in shock and pushed him away suddenly. There was a gush of wetness between them. Ciri struggled to look down at herself with wide eyes. She gripped Yen’s arms. “Did I - _Yen_! What was that? Get Triss! I think it’s happening!

“Gods have mercy,” Geralt groaned and tried cover himself as Triss fluttered into the room with a candle in hand. She lit the room sconces with a flourished gesture, gently laying Ciri on her back and examining her. She grinned triumphantly. “Your water broke, dear, labor will come quickly now,” she explained with an affectionate squeeze of Ciri’s hands. 

Ciri exhaled in relief, laughing to herself and running shaking hands through her hair. “I didn’t think that would work so well,” she admitted, petting Geralt’s hair in appreciation. The Witcher grunted. “Glad I could be of use…” he muttered, taking the moment to rest up. He knew the next day would test his endurance and mental strength. 

And it did. Labor came quickly, but lingered for hours without a change in pace. Geralt hated seeing Ciri in pain, but she bore it as bravely as she could. She had bursts of energy every now and then, getting up and walking around the house, moving through her contractions, watching the hours pass as the sun rose to its zenith and began to sink again. Still no baby. Excitement turned to frustration, then exhaustion, then fear. They did what they could to entertain her, distract her, and care for her. They talked about the future when the darkest moments were near, reminding her of the little one they’d soon have in their arms. Ciri’s fear faded to hope when they talked like that, so they kept it up to encourage her. Geralt was grateful, again and again, for the two sorceresses at his side watching over his wife. He couldn’t have done it on his own. It was breaking his heart - yes, the heart he’d been sure for most of his life that he didn’t have. He had to keep it together, for Ciri. 

The time was getting close, her contractions finally clustered together and urging her to push. They let her find where she was comfortable, and she settled on a stool by the kitchen fire. Geralt pulled up the armchair behind her so that she could lean back into his arms for support. She was soaked in sweat, beyond tired, shaking from effort, and yet Geralt had never seen her so beautiful and so strong. He wrapped his arms around her and repeated all these sweet things to her, over and over, how much he loved her and how wonderful she was, what a great mother she would be, how she was doing so well. And she pushed, and screamed, and cried, and held onto Geralt’s hands so tightly he felt his bones creak.

And then.   
  


“There!! There you are!” Triss shouted, sitting between Ciri’s legs. She was holding out a towel and Geralt caught the first glimpse of his child being delivered into her arms, tiny and perfect. “Ciri, you did it - _oh!_ Yen? YEN!” Triss’s voice turned from joy to horror in just a moment. Geralt looked around in confusion. Triss had passed the baby off to Yennefer and was grabbing more towels urgently, packing them between Ciri’s legs. She tossed a used one behind her and Geralt understood why. Blood. Too much blood.

“Triss?” Geralt’s voice cracked. His stomach had sunk in dread and he didn’t want to know. Ciri was groaning in his arms, going pale and sweaty. He shook her gently. “Wait! Ciri! Stay awake - Yen! What’s wrong?” He was shouting angrily and he didn’t mean to. He vaguely heard a smack and the baby crying nearby in Yen’s arms. Triss had her eyes closed in concentration, her fingers casting a delicate spell. Time seemed to stop as Geralt watched in fear, unable to ask or do anything else but watch. After what seemed like an agonizing eternity, Triss dropped her hands and opened her eyes. She examined Ciri once more, heaving a shuddering sigh of relief.

Triss wiped the sweat off her forehead and sat back. She was covered in blood, looking rather nightmarish, but she smiled in reassurance. “She’s alright, Geralt. She’ll be alright. She lost quite a bit of blood. I had to sew her up with magic. She’ll be alright.”

Geralt exhaled, finally letting go of the fear inside of him. His face was wet - was he crying? He looked down at Ciri, weak but awake in his arms, gripping his hands. “Baby?” she whispered faintly, her voice trembling. Yen pressed in next to them, the baby cleaned up and wrapped in the blue and silver blanket she’d bought for them. 

“A little boy,” Yen said, carefully placing the baby on Ciri’s chest. Geralt wrapped an arm around the infant to support Ciri’s hold on him. He didn’t quite trust her strength yet. He watched as Ciri looked at her baby for the first time, brushing her fingers over his fuzzy white-blonde hair and chubby cheeks. His little nose and dimpled chin. Tiny, strong hands reached blindly for her. She let him grab onto her hand, leaning down and kissing those little fingers. Happy tears ran down her face and she choked on a sob, relieved and overjoyed. “Geralt…he’s...”

“He’s perfect,” Geralt agreed. He felt a gentle hand on his face. Yen was wiping away his tears and smiling at them. He smiled back gratefully, turning his head to kiss her palm. The sorceress scooted closer, resting her head lightly against Geralt’s arm.

“Vesemir,” Ciri murmured, cooing softly at the little boy. “He’ll be a great man some day, won’t he?” 

Geralt nodded, leaning over Ciri’s shoulder to kiss that little head. To raise a little boy named after the man who had raised him, it only seemed right. “He will. I love it,” he agreed, squeezing his arms around his family. He smiled to himself, realizing that he finally couldn’t fit anyone else in his arms. His arms, and his heart, were full.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not crying, you’re crying.


	3. Papa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G
> 
> Just some fluffy drabble :)

Geralt laid back on the grass, breathing deeply the smell of autumn leaves and the bounty of late summer blending together. Yen and Ciri reclined on a picnic blanket nearby with little Ves crawling around between them, stealing morsels of soft bread and fruit to try chewing. He was just under a year old and was growing and learning so quickly that Geralt was scared to blink lest he miss a milestone. The little boy had recently started saying words, mostly ‘mama’ and ‘hi’ and ‘bye’. He was a curious baby, watching and listening to the adults around him with rapture. Studying them, Geralt was sure of it. He expected to turn around one day and see Ves walking and talking perfectly, having skipped the trial and error period.

The baby was scooting towards him, bread in his mouth and more gripped in one fist. His mother’s child, certainly - always hungry. Geralt’s heart did a somersault when Ves held out his handful of bread to him. Geralt leaned over and pretended to take a bite. 

“Mm, thank you,” Geralt pressed a kiss to Ves’s forehead. Ves grinned at him.

“Mama!” the baby said to Geralt. The Witcher chuckled and shook his head.

“I’m papa. Can you say papa?” Little Vesemir stared at him blankly and Geralt tried again, sounding out the word. “You can say it. Pah-pah.”

Those big green eyes narrowed at him defiantly. “Mum-ma.”

“Fuck.”

“Fuh.”

“Geralt! Mind your language!” Ciri exclaimed. Yen was stifling her laughter behind her hand. Geralt threw his hands up in defeat.

“He won’t repeat ‘papa’ but he’ll repeat ‘fuck’! What am I to do?” Ves was snuggling up against him, laying his head down on his chest. Geralt sighed and cuddled him in his arms. “You love me, right Ves?” The baby nodded firmly, plucking sleepily at the buttons on Geralt’s shirt. “Well, that’s all that matters, hm.”

Geralt stroked his fingers through Ves’s curly blonde hair. The baby yawned and snuggled closer. Ciri hummed happily at the sight of them together, so sweet. Geralt looked over at her and nodded towards the house. Ciri got up slowly, helping Yen pack up the picnic blanket and their supplies. Geralt got up last, carefully lifting his baby onto his shoulder. Ves stirred from his slumber and wrapped his little arms around Geralt’s neck, squeezing him close. His voice sounded so softly Geralt almost missed it. “Papa.”

Geralt inhaled in surprise, looking up to see if Ciri and Yen heard him. Ciri was grinning at him. “See? He knows.” 

“Hmm,” Geralt murmured. He was almost certain his heart had melted. He nuzzled against Ves’s chubby cheek, kissing the sleeping baby. “That’s my smart boy.” 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been writing so much fluff lately. I think some Yen/Geralt filth is needed next, hm? I would love some comments and prompts! 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Unaware (V.2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during Chapter 2 of Safe, Loved when Geralt and Ciri sleep together for the second time.
> 
> This was one of my favorite sex scenes from the series and thought it was a shame to only have Yen’s perspective ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: E  
> Chapter-specific tags: daddy kink, virginity, orgasm denial, edging, UNBEARABLY CUTE FLUFF

  
Geralt took a sip of his wine and paused for a moment, finding the right words. “I’d like to know what you want… from now on. If you want last night to be the only time, or if you want more. We have to be on the same page. I couldn’t bear for any resentment to come between us.” 

Geralt watched as Ciri bowed her head, fiddling with her goblet. She squeezed Geralt’s hand tightly, rubbing her thumb over his. She sighed, “There’s no use lying to you… you would know anyway from scenting me.” She blushed, squirming in her seat. Geralt caught a hint of arousal and yes, she was right. “I… I want more,” her voice trembled slightly. “I’ve been thinking about it all day.” She lifted her gaze to meet him. There was vulnerability there, and desire. Geralt reached up and stroked his hand through her hair. She leaned into his touch, sighing.

“I was hoping you might say that,” Geralt murmured. Ciri’s face flushed red and she looked way shyly. Her heart was racing again. Geralt cleared his throat. “After dinner, then, or else your hard work will burn.”

Ciri nodded, dazed, as Geralt stood up and tended to their dinner. She gulped down the rest of her wine. How the hell was she supposed to sit through a meal after hearing him say that?

The answer to her question was: with great difficulty and distraction. Ciri managed to eat most of her vegetables and half of her pheasant breast before completely losing her appetite. Geralt was ravenously hungry, and she sat back with a fresh goblet of wine and watched him as she sipped it. Her mind buzzed with ideas of what they’d done yesterday, and what they might do today. There was so much she hadn’t tried yet, and she was sure there were things she didn’t even know about… She found herself blushing again, wondering what Geralt could teach her. Thinking about his strong hands and arms guiding her, stripping her, taking her apart…

“Ciri?” Geralt’s gruff voice snapped her back to reality. She blinked and focused on him, realizing with embarrassment that he had finished his meal and was watching her daydream with an amused smirk on his face. Ciri thought her face might actually burn into flames and placed a palm over her cheek to cool herself down. Oh, gods, this was just shameful…

“You’re alright,” Geralt soothed with a light laugh. “You’re excited. That’s good.” He gave her a charming half-smile and held out a hand to her. She placed her hand in his, quickly draining her wine glass with the other. She didn’t need liquid courage, or at least not liquid _convincing_. She was very convinced, and very ready. But the nerves remained, the curiosity of the unknown. Geralt seemed aware of this and eager to share his knowledge with her. He stood up and led her towards the hearth and the fur rug spread out in front of it. Ciri moaned softly at the sight of it, realizing that Geralt meant to make love to her there, out in the open, in the bright and fierce firelight. 

Geralt’s fingers were on the ties of her blouse, undoing the binds with sure fingers. He sucked in a breath as the strings fell loose to expose her breasts. Ciri bid her hands into action, performing the same motions on Geralt’s shirt. Touch for touch. She understood this. She could follow his lead. He hummed softly and leaned in to kiss her cheek, nuzzle at her neck. She tipped her head back and let him mouth at the sensitive skin below her chin, over her pulse point. Memories of last night washed over her as his lips touched her. Feeling him press into her for the first time… her first orgasm with a cock deep inside her, and not just anyone’s - Geralt’s cock, her-

“-Daddy’s,” she whimpered, her thoughts crossing over into real life as she recognized that she was not fantasizing but _experiencing_. Geralt hummed in question, “Daddy’s what?”

 _Oh no_. Ciri opened her mouth but was too shy to say that she was dreaming of Geralt’s cock. She didn’t know if people were so blunt and shameless as to casually admit what they desired to others, and she was not prepared for any such answer to the Witcher’s inquiry. She was losing confidence at a rapid rate, her hands balled up in Geralt’s shirt and too nervous to do anything else. Geralt stepped closer and wrapped his arms loosely around her waist, holding her against his chest. 

“Easy,” he murmured in her ear, rubbing a slow circle on her lower back. “You’re thinking too much.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Ciri whispered, hiding her face in Geralt’s chest. His gentle touches were helping. She felt tension release from her shoulders as she leaned into his embrace, his arms warm and safe and strong around her. She inched forward and let her hips press against Geralt’s, smiling to herself as she felt him hard and ready for her. 

“You don’t have to know,” Geralt replied, reaching up to take her chin in his hand and tilt her face up to look at him. She met his eyes shyly, seeing only kindness and love there. His fingers traced the scar on her cheek and Ciri shivered in anticipation as he pulled her just a little closer. “Don’t think. Feel,” he instructed in a whisper. His forehead pressed against hers, eyelashes fluttered shut, their noses brushed, and Geralt smoothed his lips over hers. He didn’t go further than that, just let her get a taste for it to see if she wanted more. He hovered close, their lips just millimeters apart, waiting for her move. 

Ciri kissed him back.

Her hands unclenched from his shirt. One slid up his chest, blindly finding his neck and then his cheek to graze over his stubble as they kissed. There were lots of slow, sweet little kisses before Ciri had the courage to open her mouth and let him in. Their tongues slid together and Ciri felt an ache growing between her legs as they made out. _Just feel,_ he had said. She sighed against his lips and slipped her other hand under his shirt, feeling the muscles of his abdomen clench as she caressed his skin. She felt her cheeks burning red as she dared to slide her hand down the front of his trousers to touch his cock. Geralt moaned and broke away from her lips, his hand dropping from her face to undo his trouser laces and push them down. He reached for hers and hesitated, looking at her in question. She nodded eagerly, and Geralt returned to kissing her as he stripped her. She helped him, shimmying the trousers down her legs and kicking them away. They both stepped back and peeled off their shirts, tossing them aside. Ciri stood for a moment, gazing at Geralt in awe. She had seen him naked many times, but never like this. Never with wet lips that she had just been kissing, never with his cock hard and throbbing for her. Even last night, in the darkness, they hadn’t really gotten to just _look_ at each other. 

Ciri grinned when she noticed the look on Geralt’s face, amazement and desire written all over him. He bit his lip as he studied her pale skin dotted with freckles and marred with scars just like his own. The shape of her curves, slight but perfect for her slender body. Her hand rested on her lower belly, covering herself as a reflex. Geralt stepped forward and gently brushed her hand aside, stroking his fingers through the soft blonde curls between her legs. He dipped his fingers downwards, feeling the wetness that had soaked her enough to leave her inner thighs slick too. He guided his cock forward, slipping between her soft thighs and her pussy, letting her feel the hardness of his length. Ciri’s mouth dropped open and she surprised herself with how loudly she moaned, clapping a hand over her mouth in embarassment. Geralt laughed softly.

“No need for that,” he teased her, taking the hand away from her face and placing it on his chest. “Be loud for me, Ciri.” He thrust forward, sliding easily against her slick folds, and she cried out wantonly. Oh, to have Geralt so close and not inside her, it was the sweetest torture she’d ever experienced.

“Daddy,” she whimpered, fingernails digging into his chest. “I want you.”

“Hmm,” Geralt murmured in agreement. He kissed her again, sucking on her bottom lip teasingly. “How do you want me, Ciri?”

Ciri’s eyes went dark, hungry. She grabbed Geralt’s hands and pulled him over to the fur rug. She turned her back to him, placing his hands on her hips. “Like this,” she said, sinking onto her knees. He followed her willingly, growling as she bent forward and displayed herself to him. Her face was flushed red in embarrassment, and Geralt felt a twisted pride that she was brave enough to ask for what she desired despite her shyness. He rubbed his hands over her ass in appreciation, letting his thumbs dip into the wet heat of her pussy to tickle her entrance. Ciri whined, and Geralt wasn’t cruel enough to deny her. He leaned over her, draping his body protectively against hers and pinning her onto the soft fur. She moaned and arched her back, wiggling her hips trying to get his cock lined up to penetrate her. Geralt huffed a laugh. “Good girl. So eager,” he growled in her ear, his voice sending chills down her spine. He reached between them and grasped his cock, holding the head against Ciri’s entrance. The girl pressed back greedily, moaning as his length stretched her wide and deep, “Ohh, fu-“

“Language,” Geralt’s voice rumbled behind her, smacking her ass lightly as he rocked into her. Ciri’s eyes opened wide, _oh shit,_ she liked that smack a little too much. She clamped down around Geralt’s cock. _No, oh no, too soon, oh gods_ -

“AH!” Ciri shrieked, pulling away from him as the waves of an orgasm overcame her. Geralt held onto her hips patiently, sitting back on his heels and watching her as she fell apart and gasped for breath. She collapsed on her side and turned onto her back. She covered her face with her hands, groaning. “Oh my gods, I’m sorry, that was-“

Geralt hmm’d and leaned over her, moving her hands away and shutting her up with a kiss. She was shaking, so he drew her into his arms and sat up with her in his lap. He rearranged them so that he was sitting flat with his legs crossed, and Ciri settled on his thighs with her legs around his back. Here, he could press back inside Ciri and easily control the pace and depth of penetration. 

And hold her. And kiss her. Arguably, the most important parts of making love to her. As much as he enjoyed the view of taking her from behind, nothing could compare to watching the blissful look on her face as she sank onto his thick cock. Feeling her heart beating against his chest, the increasing rhythm of her breath, and the way her scent deepened in sweetness the longer he was inside her. The little hitches of noise in her throat when she tried to restrain herself, and the beautiful cries and moans she made when she let go. And those _eyes_ , when she was brave enough to look into his, those beautiful green eyes that trusted and loved him and made his heart feel like it could stop. She was trembling and clenching around him again and Geralt knew she was about to come.

“Fuck, Ciri,” Geralt cursed as though he hadn’t just reprimanded her for language. He gripped her hips and lifted her off his cock, catching her just before she lost control. She whined and pouted, and Geralt _almost_ shoved back inside her to give her what she wanted. But he had something better planned. “Wait,” he grunted. “I want to teach you something.”

Ciri whimpered, wrapping her arms around Geralt’s shoulders and nuzzling against his neck. “Did I do something wrong, daddy,” she murmured against his skin, her lips kissing away a bead of sweat. He settled her down on his lap but didn’t enter her, simply held her tightly in his arms. He rocked them together gently, letting her slide against his cock for some relief.

“No, you’re doing so well,” Geralt praised her, nudging her head with his shoulder so she would look up. He kissed her deeply, wanting her to know she wasn’t in trouble. She smiled as they parted, her eyes fluttering shut in pleasure as she rolled her hips against Geralt’s. Geralt hummed and breathed deeply that sweet scent of her arousal. “Ciri, I want you to try something for me.” Ciri nodded eagerly, squeezing his shoulders. Geralt pressed little kisses on her forehead as he continued. “You come so easily for me. And that’s _good_ ,” he made sure he praised her, because she was still shy and easily embarrassed about her sexuality. “I want you to try to wait until I come. When you get close, you pull off just like this until you calm down, then you can put me inside again.” 

Ciri was blushing furiously, pressing her head against his shoulder as she nodded. “I can try,” she whispered. Geralt hummed and ran his fingers through her hair. “Good girl,” he growled as he lifted her hips and let her drop onto his cock. She squealed happily, wiggling her hips and rolling forward as she worked herself down his length. She moaned as she bottomed out, releasing Geralt’s shoulders and rubbing her hands up and down his back. Geralt let her ride him, guiding her hips with his hand on her ass. She was beautiful like this, lost in pleasure but trying to hold on for him. She found a rhythm, slow and steady, completely blissed out in his arms. Geralt hummed happily and placed his hands below her arms on her shoulders and leaned her backwards away from him. She gasped and gripped at his arms, feeling like she was going to fall. But he held her steady. “I’ve got you, Ciri.” He pumped up into her pussy and she shrieked in delight. She pressed her heels into the fur rug and slipped as she tried to gain purchase, completely helpless to Geralt’s thrusts. And in that moment, she realized that she’d never felt so perfectly content, so loved, so treasured. Geralt was growling like an animal and it made her want to be vocal in return.

“Oh Daddy, you feel so good!” she cried out as he pounded her. She was trying to hold on, trying to be good, trying to wait. But she wanted it, wanted to come, wanted _his_ cum. “Please, please cum in me! I can’t wait- daddy, I’m gonna-“

Geralt growled and pulled her up against his chest, withdrawing his cock immediately. Ciri sobbed and pounded her fist against Geralt’s shoulder. Her thighs were trembling around his waist, the first hints of a denied orgasm. Geralt cupped her chin with one big hand, kissing her fiercely. “Think I’ll let you come that quickly, Ciri?,” he growled, letting her settle back onto his cock once she’d stopped shaking. “This lesson isn’t over yet. Shh, I know. Soon,” he soothed her when she whined in need. He returned his hands to her ass and rocked her slow and deep, letting her feel and savor every inch of him. Her eyes were closed, whimpering as she tried to hold herself back. Geralt nuzzled her nose, bumping her gently so that she’d open her eyes. “Ciri,” he whispered, gazing at her. He slowed his thrusts, barely moving, feeling the weight of her around and on top of him. “I didn’t know I could love you so much… so much more than I already did,” he murmured sweetly. Ciri whimpered again. There were tears beading at the corners of her eyes, and Geralt kissed them away. It was time to let her come. “You know I love you?”

“ _Yes_ , daddy,” Ciri cried out as he rocked her faster, rougher. She closed her eyes and dropped her head back. _Just feel_.

“Mm,” Geralt growled, gripping the back of her neck in his hand possessively. “You know you’re my good girl?”

“Yes daddy!”

“You’re gonna come for me when I say so?”

“ _Yes, daddy, please!”_ Ciri was barely holding on, trembling in his arms. 

Geralt hummed in satisfaction, fucking her on his cock relentlessly. His voice was dark and feral as he gritted his command. “ _Now._ ”

Ciri screamed.

The only thing grounding her to reality were Geralt’s arms holding her against him as she came, squirming away from the onslaught of pleasure Geralt delivered as he continued fucking into her clenching heat. He chased his own climax, only moments behind her and just as shattering. He forced himself to open his eyes and watch Ciri’s face as he pumped her full of cum, all amazement and ecstasy. He hadn’t told her that normal men didn’t produce this much spend, that it was a side effect of his mutations, but as a virgin she didn’t know any better and she _definitely_ didn’t seem to mind. He slipped one hand between them to play with Ciri’s clit and bring her off one more time as he finished pulsing. Not hard to do, considering how much she enjoyed the sensation of being filled. This orgasm was silent but just as strong and she went limp in his arms as soon as she stopped clenching around him.

After that, the world went hazy, reality seemed far away. Geralt was vaguely aware of collapsing on the fur rug, breathing heavily, reaching out blindly for Ciri’s body. After a long time of simply holding hands, Ciri gathered the strength to crawl into Geralt’s arms and rest. Her eyes grew heavy as Geralt kissed her lips lazily, his fingers rubbing the back of her neck. She shivered at his touch, still feeling sensitive from her orgasms. “Geralt..” she murmured sleepily, parting from his lips. She reached out and stroked his face, holding their foreheads together. “I love you too, even more.”

“Mm,” Geralt mumbled through a kiss. Ciri pulled away and laid her head down over his heart, her eyes closed and body relaxed. Geralt cuddled her against him, letting her fall asleep. He nuzzled into her hair, breathing deeply in their intertwined scents. They belonged to each other now, loved each other impossibly more than they already had as father and daughter. Geralt was sure Destiny had won a bet against Fate and was racking in the coins at this _very_ moment. 

His suspicions were confirmed when he heard the front door open, and the wind blew in the smell of lilac and gooseberries….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Xoxo
> 
> Drop a comment if you enjoyed or have requests!!


	5. Fantasy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ciri has a wet dream and pleasures herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating: M, set pre-Safe, Loved
> 
> Warnings!!: Underage & dub con fantasy

In her dream she was younger, almost embarrassingly so. Fifteen, _maybe_ , if she was being generous? Her breasts and hips hadn’t finished filling out. She looked boyish and innocent and hardly had any scars or muscles. The sword on her back still felt a little too heavy when she unsheathed it. The freckles on her face were cute instead of distinguished. 

She was drinking from a water skin, corking it then tossing it to Geralt. They were both sweating, wearing their armor as they trained in the courtyard of Kaer Morhen. Geralt was not going easy on her today. He was pushing her, harder and harder, their steel blades sparking when they met in the air. Ciri was gasping, grunting with the effort of keeping up with him. He was so _fast_ , but she was little and that was her only advantage. She kept him moving through the courtyard, letting him chase her only to double back on him. She hopped onto a column of fallen stonework to vault herself at him in a flying attack. Her plan _almost_ worked, but Geralt dodged to the side and let her tumble to the ground. She dropped her sword in favor of tucking her arms and rolling so that she wouldn’t injure herself. When she scrambled to gather her weapon and stand up, a light kick between her shoulders sent her sprawling face-first onto the gravel. She growled, pretending to be injured so that Geralt would come closer to check on her. He was so sweet to her, he could never bear to hurt her even when he was training her to be a killer. Ciri waited until he had started to crouch down to sweep her legs under his ankles, knocking him onto his back. She shouted in triumph and climbed onto his chest, pressing the flat of her blade against his throat.

“Surrender!” She exclaimed in a gasp, grinning wildly. Geralt growled up at her from between her knees. His hands flew up and wrapped around her hips, holding her as he rolled over on top of her. She yelled and scrambled against him, tossing her leg over to the side before he could pin her down. She struggled, trying to get out from under him and only managing to squirm beneath him on her side, her bottom half trapped by his hips and one hand on the back of her neck holding her down. 

“I’ll teach you something about surrender,” Geralt leaned over and growled in her ear. Ciri whimpered as he yanked down her trousers and raised a hand to strike her ass. He spanked her again and again as she struggled to free herself. Her sword dropped from her hand in surprise as she felt his hand probe between her legs, touching her in her private place. 

“Geralt, what?! I surrender!” Ciri whined, eyes wide and gasping as she felt his hard cock pressing against her bare ass through his trousers. “I’ll be good! I’ll do better!”

“Mmm, you will?” Geralt purred in her ear again. He dragged his tongue along her neck, making her shiver and moan. “You’ll be my good girl, won’t you?”

“Yes, I promise,” Ciri sobbed as his fingers pressed deep inside her. Only two, but enough to sting her virgin hole. 

“You’re so wet, Ciri, you like this don’t you? You want me?” 

“Mm!” Ciri was biting her lip to stop from crying out. She didn’t know if she liked it or not. But it was _Geralt,_ he shouldn’t be touching her like this. He was her father!

… but it felt good. It felt _so good_ and he knew exactly what he was doing and he was strong and warm and that cock was so tempting and she was _aching_ and “oh please just a little more, then I’ll be good, more, _more, yes!”_

Ciri jolted awake, eyes wide as she breathed in gasps and took in her surroundings. A dream, obviously. Just a dream. She sighed in relief, then winced at the throbbing ache between her legs. She couldn’t tell if she had orgasmed or not, but she was soaking wet and slippery even across her thighs and ass. She sat up a little to get her bearings and froze in horror as she realized that she was in Geralt’s bed, and his very real, big cock had actually been hard and pressed against her ass as they slept. He was still fast asleep, snoring softly and seemingly unaware of Ciri’s dream. On the other side of Geralt, Yennefer was also sleeping peacefully with a mask over her eyes and her hair wrapped up in a silk kerchief. 

Ciri’s face was burning with shame as she slipped out from under the covers and padded silently away to her own room. She had joined Geralt and Yen in bed for a cuddle before going to sleep, and had clearly failed to return to her own bed before dozing off. She shut her bedroom door and sighed in relief at being alone. Her nightshirt was soaked in sweat - she had Geralt’s body heat pressed against her back to thank for that. She pulled it off and used the hem to wipe the slickness off her thighs and ass. She swiped between her legs too, moaning in surprised pleasure at the sensation. Okay, maybe she still needed to come. She could handle that. It was fine, it was normal. She was alone now. 

She settled onto her bed and reached into her nightstand for the dildo Yennefer had gifted her years ago, not long after how old she’d been in her dream. _If this helps you keep your legs closed, my love, use it every night if you must. Toys can’t get you pregnant or break your heart, you just remember that now._ She remembered how shy and slightly offended she had been to receive the gift, but was grateful not many months later when her hunger for a cock began in earnest. It was awful, being surrounded by strong brave Witchers and not being able to fuck a single one because, _ew_ , those were her uncles and dad. She had been desperately deprived of male bodies that weren’t her caretakers and dammit, Yennefer _knew._ Yennefer warned her over and over that when she got into the ‘real world’ she mustn’t climb onto the first cock that presented itself to her. _Use it every night if you must_. _Keep your legs closed_.

Well, tonight was a must. Ciri was nineteen now, a grown woman with full curves and a punch that could knock teeth off a ghoul. She even had a boyfriend, a real human man her own age, and gods-fucking-dammit, she could pound herself with a dildo if she wanted to! No shame in that! 

And that’s what she did, mewling in pleasure as that familiar girth slid inside her and pressed her in all the right places. She worked herself deep and hard, rolling her hips up to meet her hand. Fuck, it felt so good. Her mind wandered, remembering her boyfriend fingering her while she sucked his cock. Oh, that had been a nice night. She was still a virgin but they had been having so much _fun_ and it wouldn’t be long now until she would ask him to fuck her. She thought of the time he’d offered to walk her to the stables to collect her horse and dropped to his knees in an alleyway, pushing up her skirts and eagerly licking between her legs until she came against his tongue. 

But he was a boy, hardly seen a moment of struggle in his preciously easy life. Her mind wondered idly what it would be like to be touched by calloused fingers, to be held by firm hands instead of nervous ones. She thought of her dream, embarrassed by how turned on she was as soon as the dream re-entered her mind. Geralt talking dirty to her, holding her down, _doing_ wicked things to her, oh fuck when he had spanked her-

She jerked her hips in surprise as an orgasm shook her, making her clench around her toy hungrily. “Fuck, fuck, mmm! _Fuck_ ,” she whimpered, gasping as she came down from her pleasured high. She held the toy inside her for a moment, enjoying the sensation of relaxing around its girth and being stretched open. She wondered idly how much better it would feel to have a real cock inside her, warm and hard and pulsing her full of cum. She moaned and withdrew the toy, feeling satisfied and hungry for more at the same time. She pulled up her covers and closed her eyes. Maybe if she just went back to sleep she could finish that dream...

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d like to dedicate this one to my dildo. Thnx for always being there for me 💘

**Author's Note:**

> :)
> 
> Toss a prompt to your writer, O’ valley of fans,  
> ohOhoh~


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